rivers needs springs and you are his ocean
by gsdlover1623
Summary: She finds something in his mind. {aquamartian}


She finds something in his mind.

It is minuscule and seemingly unimportant, and she doubts she would have discovered if not for pure luck. But yet, there it is, resting in her delicately cupped hand with purpose and dedication. M'gann, who should really be used to abnormalities by now, wonders why something so odd has found a place amongst Kaldur's subconscious.

Because, believe it or not, an underwater fortune cookie is odd.

The cookie isn't perfect by any means, but it still impresses M'gann. She had tried baking fortune cookies once; it hadn't gone well. However, this one is a light golden color, folded neatly and with precision. M'gann chuckles to herself. It makes sense that she would find something so well-done and perfect in Kaldur's mind.

Suddenly, as if signaled by that one small laugh, a crack appears, marring the smooth surface of the cookie. It spreads, and before long it has broken in two, revealing a piece of paper aimist the halves.

M'gann stares. Her lips are parted, pearly white teeth barely in sight, and before she knows what is happening, her hand is in motion.

It grips the paper carefully, green on, not white, but beige, for M'gann is now realizing this isn't just any paper.

The color, the thickness, even the unusually rough texture against her fingertips reminds her of the afternoons Kaldur had spent by the Cave's pool, feet dangling in the water. He always used to say that that alone time allowed him a chance to think and M'gann wonders if he has been able to draw while undercover. She doubts it.

Cautiously, M'gann unfolds the parchment and her eyes go wide.

It is a drawing, in perfect condition despite the water surrounding it, of _her_. The lines are soft and even, the shading explicit to the tiniest shadow. But the tint makes M'gann's eyebrows furrow. It's a rosy kind of color scheme, as if caught somewhere in between the satin insides of Wolf's ears and Zatanna's brightest shade of lipstick. A tint like that...isn't generally used to illustrate her and Kaldur's relationship.

The emotions that roll off of it - M'gann had learned that even inanimate things had emotions attached to them on the second day rebuilding Kaldur's mind - are unexpected and even more puzzling, but not unfamiliar. They remind her of late nights and early mornings beside a half-finished bike, of the absence of books in her arms before and after school, and of whispered _i love you_'s in the back of her mind.

They remind her of those cherished moments with Conner before the breakup. They remind her of _love._

_Does...the fortune cookie represent Kaldur's feeling for me_, she thinks and goosebumps race up her arms like horses' hooves pounding down a track. But that can't be right. Kaldur loved Tula, not her. M'gann had _felt_ his feelings for the Atlantean years ago, during her and Conner's first trip to Kaldur's home (the first of many, that is.)

But yet, here sits in her very palm evidence that she might have been mistaken.

M'gann, a little shaken by having all these secrets and lies piled upon her like rocks on a mountain, drifts over to the closest bench and takes a seat. Her head rests in her hands.

(Kaldur has many benches in his mind; more than the actual Atlantis. M'gann thinks it's because he's always willing and determined to offer support to another, both in the physical and psychic world. She thinks it's noble and kind of him, but to be honest, she expected nothing less from him. It is _Kaldur, _after all.)

_Okay,_ she thinks, and despite being confined to her own mind, it comes out slightly breathless._ Kaldur has...feelings for me. But why the fortune cookie?_

And then it comes rushing back to her like tidal waves beating upon her shores.

The brilliant idea she had gotten to try a new kind of cookie (that was all Wally's fault, really), the _minor_ explosion of flour throughout the kitchen -_ unbleached all-purpose_ the recipe had said, and finally, Kaldur stumbling upon her trembling lip and shining eyes. He had helped her after that, and though the cookies came out of the oven a bit misshapen, they had still shared a small smile that spoke of accomplishment and victory.

That smile is not on her lips now, but her teeth are, pulling at the pink skin. Thoughts are racing through her head, horses on a track, minnows in the shallows, snowflakes in a flurry. Out of habit, her fingers come up to tuck her hair behind her ear, but meet only air. She exhales, more of a huff than anything.

_I...I have to tell him I know_, M'gann decides. The paper is still clenched in between her thumb and pointer finger of her left hand. She starts to go over what she might say, how she'll bring it up, but something stops her.

Vibrations are resonating throughout Kaldur's conscience, a sensation M'gann has come to recognize as nearby movement. Kaldur is approaching.

She looks down once more at the paper in her hand, and then at the broken fortune cookie at her feet, then once again at the paper. Her legs tilt and start to propel her in Kaldur's direction, hands at her sides. The back of her neck is tickled by her hair.

The parchment doesn't leave her fingers once.


End file.
